


Promise

by velocitygrass



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Letters, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-17
Updated: 2009-04-17
Packaged: 2018-12-10 07:52:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11687277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velocitygrass/pseuds/velocitygrass
Summary: They are your friends, and I don't think that will ever change, but sometimes friends are drawn apart by circumstances, and then there is a difference between friendship and marriage, because marriage means that you're promising to go through life together.





	Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Written for sgamadison's Epistolary Challenge (even though I'm way behind deadline). Many thanks to neevebrody for quickly going over this!

Dear Jeannie,

why do you assume that _she_ broke up with _me_ and that _I_ have done something wrong?

I was the one who ended the relationship. And since you can't seem to grasp the possibility of it, I'll try to explain in a way that even you can understand.

I know I told you I was going to propose to Jennifer, but the rest of the vacation that I spent with her made me re-think. Since Jennifer and I got together, I've been telling myself that this is exactly what I want. She's pretty and smart and funny and she loves me. What more could I possibly want?

In all honesty, I don't know the answer to that but I just know that Jennifer isn't enough for me. We had a lot of fun on our trip to Paris, but as the days went on, I kept thinking about Atlantis and what everyone else was doing and hanging out with Sheppard. And that made me realize that if I married her, it might come down to this sooner or later. Being with her and having a family or staying on Atlantis with my friends.

When you chose to marry Kaleb, you didn't hesitate. You didn't have to think about it. You knew it was the right decision. If I'd have felt only half as certain about Jennifer I would have married her. I _wanted_ her to be _the one_. But the truth is, she isn't and pretending otherwise would only hurt both of us in the long run.

Do you want me to end up like our parents? I'm not saying that it would be as bad, but I just can't imagine that it would be like it is for you. I'm beginning to accept that I'm simply not like you. I do not want kids. I'd like to have a relationship, but more than that I want to be able to still do what I love. I wasn't unhappy before I was with Jennifer. And I think now that I realize I don't necessarily _need_ a relationship, I will be even happier.

I know what you're going to say. Work isn't everything. Family is what's important. And I'm not disagreeing completely. Work _isn't_ everything. But I have friends here. I have Sheppard. And strange as it sounds, I don't really think I _need_ more. As for family, _you_ are and always will be my family and my team is my family too. It might not be what you have with Kaleb, but I couldn't want more and I'm refusing to pressure myself any more with the goal to get married.

It was the right decision for you. I've accepted that. Now I only want for you to accept that it's not the same for me.

Rodney

 

Dear Meredith,

I'm sorry. You are right. It was wrong of me to make any assumptions.

If you feel that this is what is best for you, I will have to trust you.

But let me say (well, write) one thing. You might think that having Sheppard and your other friends around you for the rest of your life is enough. But _who_ says that they will be there for you forever. I'm not saying they'll abandon you, I know they won't, but don't you think Teyla might want to settle down with the Athosians eventually? From what you've told me Ronon's relationship is getting pretty serious. And Sheppard could be ordered back to Earth.

They are your friends, and I don't think that will ever change, but sometimes friends are drawn apart by circumstances, and then there _is_ a difference between friendship and marriage, because marriage means that you're promising to go through life together. Even if "hanging out with Sheppard" can give you everything else, he can't give you that promise, can he?

I don't want to make you feel bad. I'm trying to be supportive, but I think you should consider what you're giving up here. I'm sure that you _are_ happy right now, but will it stay like that? And how will you feel if in ten years you're sent back to Earth and there will be no Atlantis, no Teyla and Ronon, maybe no Sheppard? You were happy with Jennifer. Have you even discussed kids with her? I just don't want you to throw away this chance (if there still is a chance).

Love,  
Jeannie

 

Rodney resisted the urge to shove the laptop clean off his desk. She just didn't get it. She couldn't accept that _her_ dream wasn't _his_ dream, that what made _her_ happy, wouldn't make _him_ happy. Normally he'd cheerfully point out how she had completely ignored almost everything he'd written, but he was too upset at the moment, so he decided to head to the mess and go to lunch early.

He wasn't even sure why he was so angry about her mail. Jeannie always thought she knew everything better, a McKay trait that was usually mitigated by the fact that they _were_ in fact right, but that just made it even more annoying if they weren't.

As he briskly walked to the mess hall, he realized what was bothering him in particular. She did have a point.

Not about getting back with Jennifer and marrying her just so he wouldn't be alone when he was old—because really, that was what it came down to. No, about not knowing for sure that his friends would always be there. Teyla and Ronon were already spending a lot of time with their family and relationship respectively and that was okay, but the idea that Sheppard might just disappear some day, called back to Earth or maybe even volunteering was scaring Rodney.

He _had_ sort of simply imagined that they'd always be friends. In fact, one of the major reasons for deciding to end it with Jennifer was his realization that he missed John more when he was with her than the other way round. He remembered how he'd told her she was all he needed. And once he'd seen it as the blatant lie that it was, he couldn't stay with her, even though he cared about her very much.

He got a tray, piled on some food, and took a seat at an empty table at the far side of the mess hall.

The problem was that even if Jeannie was right, marrying Jennifer—or trying to find someone else to marry for that matter—wouldn't solve the problem. It wasn't a solution, it was admitting defeat, and Rodney only did that as a last resort.

What he really needed was a way to make John promise that they'd always be friends. Which unfortunately sounded quite ridiculous even in his head.

He started eating, when someone else joined him.

"Early lunch?" John asked, taking the seat opposite of Rodney.

"Hmm," Rodney said.

"Something up?" John asked, raising an eyebrow at Rodney even as he shoved a fork of pasta into his mouth. 

"You have a brother. So I can only assume you know how siblings have the uncanny ability to drive you mad."

John froze mid-bite. Then started chewing again and swallowed. "Jeannie wrote you?"

"We had a little 'discussion' about my break-up with Jennifer," Rodney said.

John made a face.

"Exactly," Rodney said.

They both started eating again. They didn't speak but the silence was comforting in a way. John looked slightly uncomfortable as he always seemed to be about the subject of Jennifer, but Rodney felt that he was supportive in his limited way, and this just reminded him of Jeannie and her complete lack of understanding for his situation.

She hadn't even said she was sorry when he'd first written her. She'd simply asked how he had messed up and told him to fix it. John on the other hand hadn't said anything for a long moment, then simply said, "Okay," and had taken him to the pier to get drunk. He'd even tucked Rodney in after dragging him back to his room. And since then they'd spent a lot of time together, just hanging out and enjoying each other's company.

Rodney couldn't remember being happier in his life. This was what he wanted. And now that he'd stopped waiting for the right woman to marry, he could see that he had it.

Life would be great if Jeannie hadn't pointed out to him that it could end any day.

He looked at John. He needed that promise. He just didn't know how to ask. Proposing seemed almost easy compared to that, because you didn't have to explain.

Hmm. Proposal really _was_ what he meant. The promise to be there for each other for the rest of their lives in good times and in bad. The only difference to actual marriage would be lack of sex and to explain that would be simple, certainly simpler than trying to explain what he wanted from John.

"Would you marry me?" Rodney asked.

To his credit, John didn't choke. He just stopped eating and looked at Rodney as if he'd grown a third eye. Rodney couldn't blame him. Neither of them spoke for a while until John said, "Okay, I'll bite. Is this therapy through role play? Or are you trying to get back at Jeannie?"

"She'd deserve it. But it's not that. She's trying to make me reconsider a relationship with Jennifer. And she's wrong in almost every way."

"Almost," John repeated carefully neutral.

"I told her I didn't need a relationship—a _wife_ —to be happy. I have Atlantis and my job, my friends. _You._ " Rodney looked at John to see if he was maybe getting where this was going, but John still looked like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "She pointed out—and this is the one thing where she might not have been completely wrong—that you could be recalled to Earth, or _I_ could, I guess, and then we wouldn't be together anymore, because friends don't necessarily... promise to stay together. So I figured we should just do that. Hence my proposing to you."

John stared at him. "You're saying..." He looked around the mess hall. "This is not a joke, right? I'm not sure what it is, but it's not a joke."

"It's not a joke," Rodney confirmed seriously.

"Then we should talk about this elsewhere," John said.

They weren't finished with their lunch but Rodney wasn't all that hungry anymore. He counted John's willingness to talk about this as good. However, there was the slight chance that John simply didn't want to tell him he was insane in public.

They went to Rodney's room and Rodney tried not to think about how John might have chosen it that way so that he could make an exit if he felt he needed it. Although it might be better this way. He didn't want to pressure John the way he had pressured himself and the way Jeannie had pressured him. This was about making a promise because it felt _right_.

They stood next to each other awkwardly for a moment, then Rodney decided to sit down on the bed, back against the wall. He kicked off his shoes and settled down, wondering how he could make John understand what he meant. Because he _was_ pretty sure that if he did, John would agree. Their friendship meant a lot to John too, and Rodney didn't think it was something John would willingly give up.

However, it was John who sat down at the end of the bed and spoke first. "I know you feel bad about Keller, but you can still find someone."

Wait, what?! "Don't you start with that too," Rodney said angrily.

John looked taken aback.

"This is exactly what Jeannie's been telling me. Well, not exactly, because she wants me to get back with Jennifer, but the sentiment is the same. And I hate it. Why do people insist on saying 'you'll find someone'? What if I _don't_? Just because so many people are in a relationship doesn't mean _I'll_ ever find someone. And what about those relationships? I know my sister is happy with her life, but can we really say the same of _everyone_ out there? Maybe they just married their Katies or Jennifers because they felt they should. And one day they realized that it didn't make them happy. It just made them married. I mean... you're divorced. You know that it doesn't always end happily ever after."

"Yeah," John said, getting a faraway look.

"So, do _you_ think you'll find the one?" Rodney asked.

John seemed to consider this before turning back to Rodney. "I don't know," he said quietly.

Rodney was glad about his honesty. "Exactly," he said. "We _don't_ know if it'll ever happen. But we _do_ know what we already have: Our friendship." John didn't look convinced. "You and I..." Rodney began. "Do you know when I realized that I couldn't marry her? On our trip to Paris I kept wondering what you were doing. I missed you."

"Rodney," John started, sounding as if he was going to object.

"No. I need you to listen to me. This is the healthiest relationship I ever had," Rodney told him. John raised an eyebrow. "It _is_ ," Rodney insisted. "I didn't even realize we were friends for a long time, but after Carson was gone—and I know it sounds cruel, but... I didn't miss him as much as I feared I would because I still had you. I _always_ have you. We work together _and_ we hang out in our free time but we're not clinging to each other or get on each other's nerves. And in the rare case that you do I can just tell you to go away and you won't mind."

John snorted.

"And you can do the same," Rodney continued. "This is ideal for me. I was chasing some stupid fantasy, but the truth is that I'm happy right now. I have all I want and now I just want to make sure I keep it."

John looked at him. "Okay. But what about sex?"

"We could still have sex," Rodney said. When John's eyes widened, he quickly added, "With other people. I mean I wasn't exactly celibate before I was with Jennifer or Katie. There are always opportunities to have sex, but what we have... And okay, if something happens, if either us meets _the one_ , then we'll step aside and be happy for the other, but... honestly? I find it hard to believe there could ever be someone I'd leave you over and as far as I can tell you're not even looking for someone, so..."

"You're serious," John said, sounding both incredulous and in awe.

"Yes! That's what I've been trying to tell you. We're already together in so many ways. I spend most of my time with you and I enjoy it. We have fun together. We save each other's lives. We're there for each other. And I'm not saying it's perfect. I mean you couldn't say 'I love you' if someone held a gun to your head, but I _know_ that you do. More than I knew with some of the people who actually _said_ it to me."

John didn't say anything to that. Not that Rodney had expected him to.

"And I love _you_. We're so great together. This is what I want. For the rest of my life. And that's something I could never say to Jennifer. You make me laugh, you surprise me, and occasionally you make me _think_. I'm willing to do things for you I never considered doing for anyone else. I can't imagine my life without you. Or maybe I could, but I don't _want_ to. This is as good as it gets. Even with our flaws, I don't think anything else could ever come close to this. I can't even really..." Rodney nearly choked up, realizing how true his words were. "It's almost perfect. I just..."

"Wish I was female?" John asked and there was both amusement and something else in his voice, a certain amount of weariness.

"What?" Rodney asked, confused. He'd wanted to say that he just needed to know that he wasn't alone in feeling this way. That he needed John's _promise_. He couldn't care less that John was a man.

"So that we could have all this and sex too," John clarified.

"No," Rodney said truthfully, shaking his head. "I mean, of course I wouldn't mind if we could have sex too, but I don't _need_ it to be a part of our relationship." Then he added as an afterthought, "Plus, you wouldn't have to be female for us to have sex."

John's expression changed and his whole body stiffened before he suddenly got up from the bed.

Rodney blinked, not understanding for a moment. Then it hit him. "Tell me you're not homophobic," he almost pleaded, because he didn't think he could take that. He could put up with a lot of things but he couldn't be friends with someone who'd judge him and others simply for sleeping with men. He didn't want to believe that John was one of those people.

John looked away, then exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "It would be rather hypocritical of me," he said, a half-smile playing on his face, even if it didn't reach his eyes.

"You're... bisexual?" Rodney asked, because that had to be what John meant. Rodney wasn't even sure how he felt about that. He hadn't lied when he said he didn't need sex to be a part of their relationship, but that was when he didn't think it was even an option.

John nodded. "Well, gay," he added. Then he shook his head a little. "Depends on your definition."

"If you say you're gay that's enough for me," Rodney said and he meant it. He'd considered himself straight for most of his life even though he'd had occasional sex with men since college. Now though, after realizing that his friendship with John was the one relationship he wanted to _last_ and after John admitted he was gay, Rodney found it hard to imagine having sex with John that wouldn't _mean_ something.

John nodded. "I _like_ women. I just..." He trailed off.

"I understand," Rodney said. All the men he'd had sex with in his life hadn't really meant anything to him. He hadn't _loved_ any of them. He hadn't been in love with _any_ man, period. Possibly until now. "So, since we both sleep with men, I guess there is no reason that our relationship couldn't be all that and sex too," he said carefully.

John took a deep breath. "Rodney..."

And, God. Rodney tried not to be disappointed. He'd never wanted more than friendship from John. He still wanted _that_ more than anything else. "That's okay. I get it. Just because you like guys in general doesn't mean that you like _me_ that way. That doesn't change anything for me. I'd still like to marry you. This isn't about sex for me. I just think, no I _know_ that we _work_ and I want us to be together, even if one of us has to return to Earth."

"Wasn't that why you left Keller? Because you didn't want to leave Atlantis?" John asked.

"Not for her," Rodney said. "And that's really it. Not for her, but for _you_."

John looked at the ground then back to Rodney and sat down at the end of the bed again. "You _are_ aware that we can't _actually_ get married."

"Not right now, no," Rodney said.

"Not as long as we're team," John said. "Even if Don't Ask, Don't Tell is repealed there are fraternization rules."

"I know. It's not really about getting married. I mean I _would_ do it if we could. I'd want that. But what I _really_ want is that _promise_. I want us to promise to stay together. I want _commitment_. I know it's a scary word—"

"I'm not afraid of commitment," John interrupted him, sounding very confident.

"Really?" Rodney asked, because he _was_ a bit surprised about that.

John smiled. "It's not commitment I'm afraid of. I depends on what you commit _to_ , you know?"

This made sense, actually. John might be afraid of relationships, but their _friendship_... Rodney was glad that John had confidence in that. "That's great. So...?" he prompted.

"I'll think about it," John said. Then he laughed to himself. "This is insane."

"No more insane than marrying even though you're gay or just to be married," Rodney pointed out.

"Isn't that what this is?" John asked with a half-smile.

But Rodney didn't smile back. He sat up and moved his legs off the bed to lean towards John. "No," he said, putting his hand on John's arm. "This is wanting to spend the rest of my life with someone." It really was as simple as that.

Their eyes met and John seemed to search something in Rodney's, maybe doubt, but Rodney had never been more certain of anything in his life. And John seemed to see that. He nodded his acceptance. Then he leaned forward and kissed Rodney.

It wasn't a deep kiss. No parts of their bodies except their lips were touching and John pulled back far too soon after Rodney parted his lips, allowing their breaths to mingle for a second. It was just a quick kiss, but it was more than enough.

"You shouldn't have done that," Rodney said, feeling dazed.

"I'm sorry," John stuttered out, withdrawing, but Rodney put his hand on his neck and pulled him back.

"I won't be able not to have this too," he said. "Not anymore." Then he drew John's mouth to his again.

John responded tentatively, but then moved back again. "Rodney," he breathed.

"Tell me you don't feel this," Rodney challenged John, before kissing him once more. This time John definitely responded, but when he put his hand on Rodney's face, it was to gently push him away.

Rodney's gaze slowly moved from John's mouth—his wonderful wet lips—up to John's eyes. The pain that he saw in those eyes went straight to Rodney's heart. John _did_ feel it. And from what Rodney could see this wasn't a new revelation. It wasn't something that he'd never considered before. It was— "You..." Rodney began, unable to put it into words. "And you didn't say anything. Of course, you didn't." Because that was John. Self-sacrificing and noble and completely _stupid_ for such a smart man. He pulled John into another kiss.

"Rodney," John protested half-heartedly.

"What?" Rodney asked. John gave him another pained look. "You think I'm not serious?" Rodney asked. "You think this is just convenient?" John didn't deny it. "I was willing to _marry_ you," Rodney said. "I still am. I love you. And I'm attracted to you. John, I _want_ you. I want _this_. _All_ of it."

John gave him a long look and Rodney could see that he wasn't convinced and that he'd simply have to work on _showing_ John the truth of his words. He didn't mind. "Just..." John began. "Let's take it slow."

Rodney didn't want to take it slow. Not now that things had finally fallen into place for him. But this wasn't about him. This was about John, and from now on, they were in this together. So he nodded and said, "We can do that."

John smiled gratefully, and they leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.

"Not too slow though, I hope," Rodney said half-joking.

John laughed. "We'll work out a compromise," he said.

"I hear that's what couples do."

John made a face. "I'm really not good at relationships," he said.

"How many relationships have you had with your best friend of five years, whom you're also insanely in love with?" Rodney asked.

"Who said anything about insanely?" John said roughly, face flushing.

Rodney palmed his face. "We'll make this work," he said with a serious smile.

"We just might," John said, looking at Rodney in wonder.

"I _promise_ ," Rodney said—and sealed that promise with a kiss.

 

Dear Jeannie,

I wish you could see how wrong you are. I cannot stay with Jennifer simply to have someone who won't leave me. I know that you only want what you think is best for me. Maybe I haven't made my feelings for Jennifer clear enough for you to understand. Or my feelings for John.

You _were_ right in one thing though. I could not count on a friend to always be with me. So I asked John to marry me. He's thinking about it.

I thank you for that.

Love,  
Rodney


End file.
